His warm eyes--warm brown human eyes--crinkled with happiness. He cupped her face with his hand. "When I could not escape Tristan and Batuk to come back to you and make sure you would be safe, I told my god Shiva I wished to offer my immortality in trade for your eyesight. I did not want to leave you alone and blind. I expected to die at the battle with the Beladors, but I still survived. I do not wish to live another eight hundred years--only as long as you live."
Tears streamed down her face. "I'm a Belador descendant. You're sure you want to stay here with your enemy?"
"You will never be my enemy." He leaned in and kissed her softly, a tentative touch that gave her the confidence to kiss him back.
She could feel her granddad's blessing flood over her.
THIRTY-NINE
Evalle hadn't worn dress clothes for anyone, but tonight was important. She had to look her best. Wanted to look her best. The simple brown pants and jacket probably looked better on the chipped-up mannequin in the used-clothing store, but she couldn't have come in here wearing her battle gear.
Cool air swam around her face and arms, a welcome change from the heat bombarding Atlanta outside.
Murmurs drifted to her ears, nothing specific. Chatting littered the serene air in the church below the balcony where she hid. The small group gathered in the main vestibule waited with reverence. She'd never been one to pray, but she sometimes wondered if those who did were heard.
She cut her eyes sideways at the dashing elderly man on her left. Was she good or what? Just look at that rockin' cleanup job she'd done.
Grady wore a gently used black suit she'd gotten from the same secondhand store. He sat as straight as a general waiting to meet the president, but he was holding himself erect in anticipation of a wedding march.
She'd brought his clothes and a shaving kit she'd pieced together to the upstairs bathroom that served the balcony of this church on busy Sundays. Not much traffic up here at a small Wednesday night wedding.
Watching the clock down to the minute, she'd laid out everything for Grady in the bathroom, shaken his hand, then shut the door.
He turned his clean-shaven face toward her. The smile he bestowed on her was worth the sanction she'd face for this if she got caught shaking hands with a Nightstalker for personal reasons, but she was feeling pretty good about her position among the Beladors.
Why not make someone else's dream come true?
Grady leaned toward her. "You must always believe, no matter what. Tzader and Quinn won't let anything happen to you. Neither will that Injun."
She smiled at Grady's newest slight. Storm was not an "Injun," but Grady wanted to get a rise out of her to keep her mind off the Tribunal. She smiled at him. "I'm not worried."
Much.
His granddaughter's wedding would start any minute now. The minute they were done she'd make the eight-mile ride back to downtown with him clinging to her bike. He'd gotten lost after being freed from the Kujoo this morning and spent hours finding his block around Grady Hospital.
All the shaving and changing to clean clothes would go away as soon as he glimmered back into his ghoul form.
But he'd have the memory for as many decades as he remained a Nightstalker, which could be a very long time. Her heart pinched at the waves of happiness she felt coming off him.
After she made sure he was safe back near the hospital, she'd have two hours to spend with Feenix. She'd take her little darling on a bike ride out where he could squeal in delight as much as he wanted and no one would hear.
Grady's fault. He'd got her thinking about making good memories.
Then, she'd have to get past Go with the Tribunal, but Brina had said she'd be there.
The room below quieted when the piano music stopped and Grady leaned forward, anxious to look over the edge of the balcony where his granddaughter had planned an intimate affair.
He started to fade. He stared at his hands, then turned panicked eyes to her.
The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Grady or risk his half-life in any way. Evalle opened her mouth to speak, but the wedding march struck up.
It was the look of anguish on Grady's face that ended all debate. She couldn't live with that as the last memory of him if there was a chance that she would get sent away tomorrow by the Tribunal.
Hoping this would not harm him, she reached over and grasped his hand.
Relief and gratitude poured from his body. He squeezed her fingers and leaned over to whisper, "I prayed for a miracle and God sent me you. I'll talk to him about the Tribunal."
Emotion she had never felt clogged her throat. Lifting her chin, she smiled at the old ghoul, who grinned back.
She'd fought the Kujoo, an Alterant and demons this week. She'd protected her tribe and upheld her oaths.
If the Tribunal wanted to lock her away, they'd have a fight on their hands. Bring it on.
SHERRILYN KENYON is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of several series, including the Bureau of American Defense novels Born to be BAD, BAD Attitude, Phantom in the Night, Whispered Lies, and Silent Truth --all available from Pocket Books. Tere are more than twenty million copies of her books in print in over thirty countries. She lives with her family near Nashville, Tennessee. Visit her website at www.SherrilynKenyon.com.
DIANNA LOVE is the New York Times bestselling coauthor of Phantom in the Night, Whispered Lies, and Silent Truth. She is a national speaker who started writing while working over a hundred feet in the air, creating billboard marketing projects for Fortune 500 companies. When not plotting out her latest action-adventure, she travels the country on a motorcycle to meet fans and research new locations. She and her husband live near Atlanta, Georgia. Visit her website at www.AuthorDiannaLove.com.
Sherrilyn Kenyon, Blood Trinity
(Series: Belador # 1)
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